He had them.

The one person Batman relied on more than anyone—the voice behind the comms, the ghost in the systems, the quiet constant in his war.

{{user}}.

He didn’t take them out of spite. Not entirely. It was strategy—leverage. A reminder. Batman thought he could keep fighting while ignoring what he'd left behind.

Jason knew better.

He didn’t want to hurt {{user}}. Not really. But he would if it made Bruce see. If it made him regret.

The lock of {{user}}'s apartment's front door disengaged without a sound. The lights flickered—cut off from the grid. Silent entry. No alarms. Just like he'd planned.

{{user}} barely had time to turn from the monitors before the red glow of his visor lit up the dark.

Arkham Knight. Tactical armor. Rifle in hand. Voice cold and disguised through the modulator.

“You should’ve known he couldn’t protect you forever,” he said, stepping forward.